The Ancient Order
by kanoko12
Summary: Corypheus is defeated, but a threat still remains in Thedas. A plague sweeps across the land and strange creatures are appearing, causing issues for all of Thedas. And despite the Inquisition's prior efforts, red lyrium is at the focal point of all the issues. A new Order steps from out of the shadows to assist the Inquisition. Who are they?
1. Prologue

_Hello everyone, this a story a dear friend of mine started some time ago after plotting with me. She has since given me permission to continue and edit parts of what she had published, leaving me the documents she had. She has also deleted the original story from her account, as not to mess with the ToS of the site. If you have read the original few chapters that were published, welcome back! The first few published are not going to be very different, I just rephrased and edited a few errors out. I hope you enjoy and please, leave reviews! Whether an update on you wanting more or maybe an idea of what you'd like to see in the future!_

* * *

The Inquisition never absolved, much to the distaste of Ferelden. They had come to an agreement that any large unit movement, especially throughout Ferelden, would be sent to the Crown to prevent an uproar from Ferelden.

Even when the Inquisitor, Mayella Trevelyan, lost her arm that had long dubbed her the Herald of Andraste, her people still followed her. Many decided to part their own ways, to return to posts that needed them in distant lands. However, there were those who were loyal to the order and remained, because even though the threat of Corypheus had been defeated, a great turmoil shifted beneath the waves.

Leliana had become the Divine and disassembled the Circles, to which the mages still formed their own College creating structure that was similar to a Circle, but free of the oppression of the Chantry. The only downfall to this change was the uproar, from commoners to nobility, who believed this was a road to disaster, especially after what had just occurred in Thedas. How could they go unchecked?

The Templars, on the other hand, never reformed. While hunting rebel mages was still a task to be done, there were enough who were capable of dealing with mages in manners other than Templar Anti-Magic; some of them were mages of their own kind who honed their skills in another manner. They simply called themselves The Hunters, a quiet Order who wanted nothing to do with politics or religion. Not much was known about them, but if you needed abominations taken care of, a raven to The Hunters would be answered. They claimed to have other skills, which did not become apparent until creatures, unknown to those in Thedas, began appearing.

As if the uneasy truce between the mages and the Chantry wasn't fragile enough, issues with the remains of red lyrium were pushing the Inquisition to look into the dreaded substance. Mayella began to avidly research it, withdrawing from others as she was afraid to expose them to it. Of course, she exposed herself plenty, never having issues with in past, partially believing that she was immune to its taint.

The Grey Wardens disappeared. No mention from Alistair came back from Weisshaupt. Every so often they would send ravens in hope of hearing back from the Hero. Nothing. Whatever stirred in Weisshaupt, no one was willing to take the trip and find out for themselves.

The threat they faced now was the surge of monsters that they slowly came to identify, one by one, after they were killed. A plague was also spreading across of Ferelden and had dug some of its roots in Skyhold. The sick patients were quarantined with their healers, but all the mages could do was ease their passing rather than make them better. Many called for the immediate burning of their bodies to prevent the illness spreading, while others claimed killing the inflicted 'inhumane'.

Cullen sighed behind his desk, staring emptily at the stack of papers he needed to go through. Most would be requests and death ledgers, to which they would have to pay families out for as their loved ones who died of plague. It also meant that Josephine was in more of a flurry trying to replace what was in the coffers, to keep the Inquisition afloat, but with so much death it was difficult to keep up.

A sturdy knock at the door was followed by one of his scribes coming up with an unopened letter. "We received this today, it has a strange seal. I was told to bring it to you to open since the Inquisitor is busy, Commander."

Cullen nodded and lifted his hand to take the letter. He turned it over to glance at the beautiful shimmery silver wax seal; the impression was of a snake in a circle, eating its tail, creating an endless cycle. The scribe was correct that this was a strange seal, for he had never seen it before or known anyone to use such a crest.

The scribe waited patiently for his next order as Cullen used a letter opener to carefully pull the seal up, in tact. Unrolling the fine parchment, the script that he read was just are meticulously written and defined as the seal.

' _To The Inquisition,_

 _It has come to our attention that you are having some issues with the Ferelden borne plague and we think it is time that we extend our help and gratitude. Our Order never would have formed without your assistance and also the rise of the new Divine. We will send one of our esteemed doctors and hunters to join your ranks. Doctor Entwhistle will assist in rooting out the plague from your keep and in exchange will act as our ambassador._

 _There is not much now that we can currently reveal about ourselves and the doctor shall also be sparing with what details they reveal. However, contact between us shall remain open and the Inquisition shall be getting to know up much better as the time passes._

 _Please send the raven back with your approval so we may deploy Doctor Entwhistle to your location._

 _The Order of Hunters'_

Cullen sat back and read the letter over a few times, his brows pulling together. The mysterious order was offering their assistance, claiming that the Inquisition helped the birth of their order. It was a strange token of gratitude, in which Cullen assumed could also be double edged blade. This doctor was probably going to be a spy for the hunters.

The commander glanced at the courier. "Follow me, we must bring this up to the Inquisitor before we respond," he stood, pushed back his chair with a screech and sauntered out the door his stiff legs groaning in protest.

It felt as if he was rarely outside to enjoy the mild weather of the mountains. Most often the weather would flip like a switch, seemingly beautiful, and then all of a sudden a blizzard whipped up out of nowhere or rain would fall ceaselessly. That day was one of the brilliant ones he never got to enjoy since he was riddled with paperwork to complete.

Holding the curled parchment in his hand he pondered. Entwhistle sounded very familiar, but he could not remember why or where. It was a faint remembrance that Cullen contemplated whether it was because he had read it somewhere before or if he actually knew an Entwhistle.

They entered what had once been Solas' chamber, ornate paintings of elven origin smattered around the Inquisitor as she was bent over a tiny piece of red lyrium. Cullen could feel its tainted buzz from the entrance of the room and the courier was also greatly discomforted by the aura the room held. A small chest was against the far side of the wall and it was locked, fortified with runes and tracings. They both knew that within, was more of the dreaded lyrium.

Mayella lifted the magnifying glasses from her head and set it down. She pulled a small trinket box from her pocket, that was also transfixed with runes, and popped the lyrium into it, snapping it shut. The room felt a little lighter after, but there was a lingering, perverse feeling that had seeped into the very floor and walls.

The Inquisitor was a prim woman, always having taken great pride in her appearance and grooming. Her chestnut hair was pulled away from her face in two braids that crowned her. Her face was smooth and well structured, a sign of good breeding on her family's part. Her nose was straight, lips upturned, and her eyes almond shaped and perceptive. Despite the lack of one arm the woman's posture demanded utter respect.

"What can I help you with, Commander?" she asked, her voice sultry and warm to the ears. She could have whispered sweet nothings and the mere sound of her voice would have been enough to lull any man into a splendid stupor.

Cullen found that he admired the woman, just as anyone should. She had accomplished the impossible and worked in a collected and logical manner. She was a true leader and barely ever lost her composure. At a time, he thought he might have had feelings for her, but she made it clear that she wasn't looking for a relationship, due to the stress of Corypheus being on her shoulders.

"We received a letter I believe you should read and respond to. I would have myself if I did not think the matter went above my own head," he responded, stepping forward and handing the letter off to her.

Mayella glanced at him for a long moment before she nodded and inspect the seal, hesitating to open the letter as she stared at it. Finally, she unrolled it and read the contents. She scanned it maybe once or twice, rolling it back up and placing it in Cullen's hand.

"Send a response that we would be honored to have Doctor Entwhistle assist with our ill. The doctor will probably be a spy, but we know little to nothing about their order. It is about time we learn more about what they can to offer… and if this doctor can truly help with our afflicted, then it will be a blessing from the Maker that they come here and start helping."

Cullen handed off the letter to the scribe who had observed the exchange and would get the task done. The young man disappeared up a set of stairs on the side of the room, leaving the two of them.

"Handling the lyrium without a glove now?" he asked dubiously.

Mayella had turned back to her work by now, but simply rolled her shoulders. "It's easier to handle that way. What good are the gloves anyways, I am exposing myself to it either way."

This was not the type of carelessness that Cullen knew Mayella for, but perhaps she knew more of the effects of the material than he did.

"Are there any new reports on monsters or appearances of them?" she asked.

"Not since the Red Cap incident," Cullen responded. The tale of the demented dervish was enough to give anyone nightmares. From the reports, the midget creature was swift and agile, wetting its hat in the blood of its victims. It didn't use a weapon, for it had sharp little claws that pierced steel, and it was described as being just as ugly as a darkspawn, for which it had been mistooken.

"Hm, perhaps the doctor will be able to shed more light about these demented things that crop up more and more."


	2. The Doctor Arrives

Cullen had nearly forgotten that the doctor would be coming to Skyhold. He had become so busy, that his mind flitted other places before occasionally resting on the name Entwhistle. Finally, the day came when the mysterious hunter was expected to arrive at their gates. One of Cullen's sergeants fetched him, a rather bewildered expression sitting on his face when he breathlessly alerted Cullen that the doctor had arrived.

Setting his paperwork aside, he told his sergeant to also notify Josephine and Cassandra.

Leaving his office, he headed down the ramparts, anticipation welling inside of him as he was to meet this Doctor Entwhistle and hopefully unlock why he recalled the name so faintly. Down below many had stopped their work to huddle around the rider who arrived on an obsidian charger. The animal was equipped with strange wooden boxes that probably contained the doctor's equipment. It was obvious, due to the lack of a staff, that this doctor was no mage, but an expert in anatomy.

The rider who had dismounted was crowded by the onlookers in Skyhold, trying to catch a glimpse of the supposed hunter. Muttering spread like wildfire among them.

"Apparently he can cure the plague."

"I don't see any staff, he's not a mage? But how can he heal the afflicted?"

"Why is his face hidden by such an odd mask. Is he Orlesian?"

Cullen pushed his way to the front. "Break it up! Go about your duties, give the doctor some breathing room," he ordered, causing many of the people to break away, though anxious glances were thrown over their shoulder as they were hoping to glimpse something amazing.

Cullen came face to face with Doctor Entwhistle who was garbed in very dark attire. A long leather trenchcoat covered much of the doctor, only opening slightly to reveal a well tailored suit. While it was finely made, it was not ornately colored or screaming for attention, like the clothing of Orlesians did. Rather, it was a dark brown coat and trousers, a white button down, a peep of suspenders, and a formal tie. Adorned on the doctor's collar lapels were platinum snakes, formed the same as on the seal of the letter; the crest of the hunters.

The mask of which the people mentioned was not an Orlesian mask, but a black leather plague mask. The people were unaccustomed to seeing it.

Doctor Entwhistle also had a sword belt on mostly, hidden beneath his coat; only the slight protrusion of a hilt was visible.

"Well if you wanted to start rumors you certainly gave them a lot to work with," Cullen remarked before he could stop himself.

The doctor cocked his head in confusion.

"Nevermind, welcome Doctor Entwhistle," he greeted. "My name is Commander Cullen Rutherford and we're glad to have you here."

"Cullen Rutherford?" the doctor repeated in a heavy accent.

"Yes…" he drawled, wondering if they even spoke the same language. He paused for a moment, taken aback that the muffled voice that he heard sounded like a woman's voice.

"Oh dear," Josephine muttered from behind as she paused, startled by the doctor's appearance. "Pardon me, it is not every day we see someone with a plague mask on. It just took me aback."

The doctor froze and then with a slight chuckled lowered her hood and pulled the mask off. "No, no, I apologize. Sometimes I forget that I am wearing this blighted thing," she mused. The doctor's voice was a strong tenor and her accent incredibly articulate and clear. It sounded faintly like a Ferelden accent, but much more cultured and refined.

Doctor Entwhistle had hair the color of ripened wheat. It was pulled back away from her face halfway, but due to the mask a few tendrils escaped the grasp of the ribbon and framed her face. She had a small narrow nose, determined stormy eyes, and shell colored lips. Two scars marked her sunkissed skin, one against the top bridge of her nose and one against her right cheekbone. She was quite clean and well groomed, but there was something almost wolfish about her.

It took Cullen a long and embarrassing moment of staring at the woman before he knew why he recognized the name.

"Leona Entwhistle?" he asked.

The doctor arched one of her brows curiously before observing him more keenly. "Oh!" she exclaimed a bit startled. "Cullen? I can't believe I didn't recognize your name sooner. Well, this is embarrassing."

Cullen chuckled, despite feeling incredibly awkward. He had recognized her name because the two of them were both from Honnleath. Leona had been the daughter of the local blacksmith, her interests had always been about plants and other scholarly focuses. He knew her somewhat, but perhaps not as well as she had deserved. He recalled that she had been picked on as a child for reading so much. Once or twice he had been among her taunters.

"Do you two know each other?" Josephine asked, not understanding what was happening between the two.

"Ahem, uh, yes. We both grew up together as children, we're from the same hometown in Ferelden," Cullen responded.

"What a small world," Josephine quipped with a small, but seemingly knowing smirk. "The two of you will have to catch up later, perhaps over a drink?" she suggested deviously.

Cullen scowled at her, but the doctor did not seem to pick up her insinuation. "That would be nice, I'll probably be disappearing for a few days once I get started with those affected by the plague. I won't be able to resurface until I'm certain the majority of my work is done."

"Do you expect to be finished so soon? We have spectacular healers here who cannot even help them," Josephine responded.

Leona, in her strange garb, pulled out white gloves from her trench coat pockets. She slipped them onto her hands and gave both of them a small smile. "Magic doesn't know the answer to all of Thedas' problems. I'm no mage, but I've devoted my life to science and anatomy. Of course, much of what I have studied, mages have assisted with, as they keep good notation of everything. However, my application of the art is different and something that any average man or woman could learn if they put themselves to such a task."

Both of them must have looked skeptical, because the doctor chuckled at them without disdain. "I suppose my work shall have to be evidence of what I can do. If possible I'd like to stay as close to the quarantined area as possible. It shall take me about a day to unpack. I have medicine I intend to prepare, a medicine I want everyone who is not displaying symptoms to drink."

"A potion?" Cullen asked.

"No, medicine. It will act as a guard against the plague, as long as it is not in your system. I know this sounds a bit strange, you barely know me and I'm asking you to drink something I make, but if you would prefer, I will give you a full list of the materials and a mage or soldier can watch me prepare it."

"I can see to it that you are assigned a skilled herbologist to oversee what you are making," Josephine promised.

"I can have some of my soldiers help move your materials. There's a tower that has been recently repaired, if you go down all the stairs it will lead to storage cellar that has been repurposed into the quarantine area. No one has been using it due to its proximity," Cullen informed her.

"That sounds like it shall suffice. Having my chamber slightly away from the area is a good idea, I'd prefer not to be down there all the time. I just request a tub, I'll need it to wash off and clean my clothing after I've been exposed."

"A logical request, I shall see that it is brought there," Josephine said, scribbling a few more things down. "Do you need a tour or anything else?"

"I'll just stable my own horse, he's very picky with whom he lets around. Perhaps after, someone can find me and show me around," she moved to unlatch the wood boxes that were stacked around the horse's saddle. Cullen assisted, worried they might be too heavy, but found that the crates were rather light. Only one was heavy and it contained tools and various other equipment. The saddle bags contained clothing and, in total, when unpacked, what had been laden on the horse seemed to be an immense pile beside them. Had the horse been anything aside from a Clydesdale it probably would have buckled beneath all of it.

Doctor Entwhistle led her horse to the barn and Cullen found a few of his soldiers to carefully move the belongings to the spire. "So you grew up with her?" Josephine asked when they finally had a moment alone.

"Yes… I don't know what sort of devious things you've got going on in your mind, but we didn't really know each other. She was just the girl who lived next door, nose always in a book. I was more interested with the templars than I had been with girls or anything other than fighting or the Chantry."

"A doctor, hm? It's not very often you see those, especially since a mage can easily offer so much more. Perhaps her work shall speak for itself. I truly hope she can work well where everyone else has failed thus far. There is never a cure for a plague... is there?" Josephine wondered, turning her eyes toward Cullen.

"I don't think so, I always believed it was to get rid of those dying, burn the bodies, avoid exposure… I do not know what methods could truly be better than magic."

Josephine shrugged. "Well, hopefully she can shed more light on The Order of Hunters, but right now our ill are priority… You know, despite not knowing her that well you could talk with her and try to find out more."

Cullen sighed, perturbed that Josephine kept prodding. He wondered if she knew of his bit with Mayella and wanted him to fish other places. That or she was thinking in a purely political way, using their background to try and pull information out of her. "I can try speaking with her, but I do not know her at all. I left when I was 13 for the Chantry. She is a stranger to me."

"Sometimes, just being from the same place it all it takes," the ambassador smirked before leaving Cullen to his own thoughts.

Cullen enjoyed the mild day that he had been awarded, despite the reports he needed to tend to and the letters he had to write. He had believed that it was going to remain nice until the first few flurries of snowfall graced his collar. Sighing he trekked toward the stable where Leona had brought her steed. He took his time, glancing between the stalls as he came upon the doctor, giving the finishing touches to her horse's stall.

Hearing footsteps, the woman turned and inspected him, her dark eyes like the deepest depths of the ocean. "If you have questions for me, you had best ask before I work, because you will not be seeing me for a while," she told him.

"How did you become a doctor?" he asked.

"The same way you became a templar. I met a doctor and asked to study under him."

"And a Hunter? Was that just as simple?"

Leona chuckled. "Ah yes, I met a Hunter and asked to become apart of their Order. Is that what you wish to hear? Perhaps that is a tale for another time. But I left Honnleath not too long after you did. I returned a few times, but my studies took me across Thedas to help different people. My mentor wanted me to experience the world and the resources each area offered."

"How was finding work?"

"Easier than you'd think. I did a lot of charity work, because mages are expensive healers _or_ they're apostates. Now it makes no difference, I've got much more competition, but I charge my patients based on what I think they can afford or nothing at all. My work is about helping people and researching from what I've done. Of course, you cannot save everyone, even a mage skilled in healing knows this. Also, some people would put more trust in a doctor than someone using magic, especially after the spat between the mages and templars. I think the only reason you don't see more doctors is because of how much time it takes to learn everything. It's something you have to devote your life to."

"You _did_ read a lot as a child. Must have gotten you ahead."

"Not at all, though I could say the same for you, always reciting rhetoric to the templars. We both had our ambitions, though mine was much quieter… And what about you, Commander? You assisted the Inquisitor in defeating Corypehus."

Cullen had never been the sort for bragging and when the woman brought it up he knew whatever words that came out of his mouth would do nothing to further his position. "Er… well, I just did my duty." Not too bad, could have been much worse if he kept on talking.

"Duty, yes…" she drawled, her eyes becoming distant as she pat the stall and then stepped away from it.

"Do… do you really have the ability to save these people from this plague."

Snapped out of her stupor, Leona gave him a hardened stare. "Yes, I do," she said confidently. "But, many are already too far gone, this I know. And they will be lost, all I can do is hasten their departure so they suffer no longer." A shadow flickered across the woman's face and Cullen wondered what it was like weighing whether or not a person would make it, putting their life in your hands, deciding what to do with it. Killing people was different, you had motives behind it. This illness… you didn't purposely want to condemn anyone, but sometimes you had to.

The doctor straightened her posture. "Well, I've got a lot of work ahead of me. Perhaps once I assess the damage and get everything under control, I can speak to you more on your knowledge of the monsters that are appearing across Thedas. I'd like to see where the Inquisition is… but the people come first."

"Yes, any knowledge you can spare to help us understand us will save lives in the future."

Leona gave a polite nod and pardoned herself, her coat fluttering behind her as she stepped into the snow flurries and hurried off in the direction of the soldiers handling her belongings.


	3. The Untouchable Fiend

In the coming days, Cullen found himself swamped with requests, especially those regarding Doctor Entwhistle. Rumor had spread that she was an apostate from a far off land, perhaps even from across the ocean in the abyss that no one knew how to traverse and that her gifts were of a different kind of magic… which was just preposterous seeing that Cullen had grown up with her.

He and Cassandra, who later met Leona and bombarded her with questions, had to cipher through the requests of people complaining of petty illnesses just so they could get a glimpse of the doctor. Unless they were showing symptoms of the plague they were routed to mage healers despite their pleas and intrigue with this doctor.

As requested, a skilled herbologist accompanied Doctor Entwhistle through her endeavors and took complex notes on what the doctor was doing. Cullen had once overheard her mentioning how Leona had a chemistry set, in which she tampered with the materials from different monster parts and herbs. Rather than being perturbed, the herbologist was excited, having never seen such a method of preparing medicine, as potions used a different set of flasks and method of heating.

After two days, the doctor was delayed by visitors she refused to turn away. She had concocted the medicine and requested that all members of the Inquisition who had not contracted the plague, take it.

The leaders of the Inquisition informed her that she could start with the regular members and that they would take their medicine once everyone else had been tended to. Doctor Entwhistle even took her own medicine to prove to Cassandra that it was not poison, despite the herbologist's agreement.

"She could easily make an antidote when we are not looking," Cassandra grumbled, glancing down at the vile with a dreaded green, viscous liquid in it.

"I have nothing to gain from killing you all," Doctor Entwhistle shrugged, not bothered by the accusations, as if she had expected some resistance upon her arrival. "The Order of Hunters has no affiliation… _yet,_ " a small smile tucked itself onto the doctor's sweet face, like a hint of mischief on a child's.

Despite her chipper attitude, the woman showed signs of fatigue. Dark bags had formed underneath her eyes, but she moved with persistence and without lethargy. She offered Josephine and Cullen their flasks. She had another, reserved for the Inquisitor, who she had yet to meet.

Mayella materialized at the door, swaggering in, her eyes scanning the tower room that the doctor had put together for herself. On one end there was a work station, her boxes had been stacked on top of one another to form shelves that contained various materials. The tool crate was next to a patient table. A chemistry table was set up alongside of the boxes and had recently been cleaned. A few book cases had also been given to the doctor, though they were relatively empty at that time.

A desk was on the far side of the room opposite of the chemistry table, scattered with a few of the doctor's journals. The tub was also in the lower quarter. Her bed and wardrobe were up above on the upper terrace of the tower, separating her private life from her professional one.

"Inquisitor, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," Leona said politely, bowing respectfully.

Mayella had an air of disdain about her and appeared rather irritable as she waved away Leona's greeting. The doctor, still stooped at a deep bow, glanced up and scrutinized the Inquisitor.

She stood fully when she realized she wasn't going to be addressed and was visibly a little ruffled by the lack of an exchange. Leona's posture became absolutely erect, like she was balancing books on top of her head. She snatched up the last flask and brought it over to Mayella, who she glanced down at with the same amount of disdain that the Trevelyan had showed her.

When Leona turned, Cullen caught the fraction of a second when the doctor wrinkled her nose, as if noticing something smelly.

Leona spun back around and clasped her hands together. That day she wore trousers, her suspenders, and a cleaned button down, her sleeves rolled up. She had a small ribbon tie, but it had been undone. A few of her golden strands of hair had also come loose from her low ponytail.

"Now, as I've told everyone before, this medicine is to keep the plague from infecting you. Is it guaranteed? No, if you still needlessly expose yourself, you have a chance of contracting it. Such examples easy ways to contract it: ingesting fluids of an infected, whether it be through battle or otherwise. Airborne threat is now reduced due to this medicine. There are also side effects that would bother you within the first day, which include nausea and upset stomach. If you are worried about anything before taking this, such as being pregnant or you think you are already infected, please speak now," Leona opened the floor and no one piped up. "Very well, please take the full dosage of what I have given you."

No one was eager to put it down, but after a moment of considering each of them tried to get the slop to come out of their vile. The liquid moved at a painful pace and while it had no scent, it was tart and bitter. The faces of those taking it reflected the terrible taste.

"I suggest that each of you get a good day's rest, but I have a feeling none of you shall heed me," Leona mused before retrieving the stained viles. "Commander, if I could just speak with you after, I need a notice put out."

Despite his roiling stomach, Cullen turned away from the door that the others were exiting from.

"Yes?"

Leona closed the door behind the last of them and turned back to Cullen. "Is the Inquisitor always like that?"

"Er… No, I don't know what has gotten into her today."

"Hm, yes… she just displayed some strange symptoms."

"Symptoms?" Cullen echoed, arching a brow at her.

"Lethargy, lack of attention to her surroundings… If you say these things are unlike her, then there could be something else going on. Her eyes were bloodshot and she might have been sporting quite a headache from the way she moved her eyes down and away from candlelight."

"You observed that much?"

"That's my job, Cullen. Patients lie and I have to try and observe things that they may not realize or they don't want to tell me."

He might have felt pressure under the tempered stare of the doctor, but due to his training and work as a commander he simply shrugged. "I'll look into it," he promised, despite knowing that it might be her exposure to the red lyrium. As much as the doctor seemed to care, she could very well be sending information to the Hunters while no one was looking. Until the doctor's skills showed some results, he would wait on revealing more to her, just as she would with her Order.

"Go get some rest, you're looking a little blue around the gills."

Cullen couldn't help but chuckle at her. " _Green_ around the gills," he corrected.

"You knew what I meant," the woman scowled before returning to clean up the vials. "Oh yes and the notice. I want you to put it up saying that the stomach sickness will pass in a day, drink water and make certain to eat. Other than that there is nothing else I can offer unless someone has a very severe reaction. I shall remain here, preparing for my trip to the afflicted in two days."

* * *

Cullen was sick as a dog that evening, just as Leona had warned. He spent most of it retching and from the sounds around the installment, he knew many others were just as ill. However, after a night's rest he no longer had any stomach issues, but was rather lightheaded. He followed up with drinking water to re-hydrate himself. He was offered a wonderful breakfast to wake him up, apparently "On the doctor's orders." The notion made him smile to himself and he found it easy to tuck the meal away in his empty stomach. Despite the prior night of torment, Cullen found himself in a rather splendid mood.

The two days passed swiftly and aside from one or two outliers who insisted on seeing the doctor, everyone else recovered within the day's span, just as promised. It was then that the doctor disappeared into the abyss with the afflicted, signs on her doors to her tower prohibiting entrance due to possible exposure.

A few days into her descent he received a disturbing report about a strange creature on the mountainside. It was described as favoring night time to emerge and it patrolled a certain area. Most often people were not even certain if it were real due to the fact that it blurred from vision often. The only reason they knew it to be real was because the travelers making their way to Skyhold were massacred in ornate ways. The manner or their deaths were so elaborate and planned, that it was difficult to believe that anyone would be mad enough to do such a thing. One report described of body parts being strew over the tops of barren trees far out of the reach of any person.

The most disturbing part was a patrol that tried to lay a trap for it. According to the surviving soldiers, it moved like mist, evading the trap entirely, no blade would pierce its ethereal flesh, and its screech was so terrible that it made ears bleed.

 _Perhaps the soldiers are over exaggerating,_ Cullen thought. It could have been a demon, but even these descriptions did not quite fit any of those he knew of. He wondered if he should send for the doctor to draw upon her expertise.

 _No, she's too busy with the ill. I will take a patrol and investigate this for myself. If I need the doctor, we will come back,_ he decided before sending out the report for his lieutenants to pass down so a patrol could be organized.

Ever since Leliana had gone, the duties of the spymaster had become split amongst those who still worked in Skyhold with the Inquisitor. Cullen had taken over the scouts and their patrols, as well as much of the intel they collected. He would often pass it on, seeing that his own forces took up enough of his time. Thankfully, it wasn't as much as when they had been fighting Corypheus, but it still seemed like the paperwork never ceased.

A couple of hours passed and Cullen finished the tiny stack that had been on his desk before he grabbed what equipment he would need from inside of the tower, seeing that his men would prepare the rest.

He stepped outside and grimaced, dismayed that the pleasant weather decided not to hold up for this patrol. The sky was a smattering of grey and the temperature had dropped to a frosty chill. Breaths left the mouths of their creators like a ghostly entity leaving the body. Many men had donned thick cloaks to combat the frigid weather and glanced over at their commander as he approached, cheeks flushed, drawing his own thick cloak closer to try and evade the bite of the wind.

His lieutenants would have debriefed the men that had been chosen to go with him and so he gave a simple nod before taking the reins to the horse that had been prepared for him. Mounting up, he could tell it was going to be an uncomfortable ride.

* * *

The party rode for a few hours until they came upon the location that was described in the reports. Nothing seemed out of place, but then again it was still daytime. The rumored creature was said to be nocturnal.

"I want a camp set up downwind of this area. Prepare some fires and we'll wait till the sky grows dark. From what I've read, it won't take much to lure this thing out, so I want the camp fully lit and men on guard. Keep the horses reined tightly, whatever it is might spook them when it grows near," Cullen ordered as his men saluted and went off repeating what he had just declared.

With them heading off the road and into the snowy woods, Cullen was left to glance around at the area. The snow of the road had been downtrodden and dirtied, but it was the banks that he was interested in. Droplets of blood from past victims were perfectly preserved in the top layer of snow. It wasn't as much as Cullen had been expecting, but he still found the traces of the last kills.

His eyes then went up into the trees, but he saw none of the body parts that the reports mentioned. Had they been removed and identified by the Inquisition? He could not recall. The trees were daunting, glaring down at him as if he were intruding. None of the boroughs held any recent snowfall, despite the fact that Cullen knew it snowed regularly in the area.

Once he was satisfied, Cullen turned to join the others, a chill stabbing down his neck as he left the scene. He walked the feeling off, but at that moment, he really wished he had drawn upon Doctor Entwhistle's expertise in this field.

Conversation was low among the men, just as morale seemed to be. Fear crept into their voices as they recounted the macabre details of the reports, much of what they said being exaggerated. However, even not exaggerated the stories were still grim.

Cullen rested by the fire, his hand subconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword, prepared to unsheathe it with a moment's notice.

A gust of wind tumbled into their camp and blew harshly against the fires. None were put out, but they dimmed for what seemed like eternity. The chill the wind brought was so sharp and painful that many got to their feet, disturbed by the feeling. Some strained their eyes past the guard of the light, wondering if they had spotted a shape in the distance.

A piercing screech, like the steel being slowly dragged against slate, ground against the ears of everyone in the clearing. A wind did not blow in, but the fires were terrified by the sound and crept lower to the ground.

Swords sang from the scabbards and another scream sounded, but not from creature. A soldier was flung back and onto one of the dim fires, putting it out entirely and leaving only one fire. Many expected him to get up, his back scorched in the flames. He did not.

From his peripheral vision Cullen though he saw a cloaked figure that shifted and moved above the snow. Its face was hidden within the depths of its cowl and it held a wicked blade that appeared to be made out of white light.

The soldiers were rigid for a moment, realizing where the beast was. For a long minute, there was a still staredown between them and it.

The being faded from existence, its cloak melding with the shadows behind it.

"The fire…" Cullen breathed, before its respite. "Torches! Get torches!" he cried, but as if on cue, the dervish appeared again and whirled through the soldiers in front of it. The commander watched as their blades passed through its cloak and did not pierce it. He and his lieutenant managed to grab nearby branches, dousing them in the dwindling fire beside them.

The monster has no issues in disengaging the entire patrol. It sat within the shadows just opposite of the fire's flames, waiting for either the unholy wind to take it out or for the pair to step out. In the distance he could hear the horses crying in fright, carried on the wind. This was not a fight they could win.

Cullen and his lieutenant exchanges glances. "The horses…" he breathed. He had never anticipated fully facing the beast, this was supposed to be an observation. He had not thought it would be as powerful or intelligent as it was. The whole purpose of this mission had been to observe, not to truly make contact with it. He had not thought it would take out his entire patrol as if they were sheep

While his lieutenant was circling around, a torch in his hand, a blazing beacon, Cullen placed himself in front of the creature, his sword glinting madly against the firelight. Anger swirled within him, anger for his lost men, anger for his foolishness, and anger for the atrocity he faced. Whatever it was, it needed to be destroyed.

The being reared, its misty white blade flashing against the light.

Cullen swung his torch in its direction, the creature evaded but screeched in great distaste. It disliked the light, but was too set on its prey to leave… they had invaded its territory.

Cullen heard the thundering of horses behind him, the horses of the fallen had been let loose as a distraction. He tried to use the noise to his advantage, but as he lunged forward, the humanoid brought its wicked dagger down. Cullen deflected it, but as he did, his blade shattered against the impact with the the monster's. Stunned, he staggered back and before he could deter the being with the torch, it wisped forward and sunk its weapon into his shoulder.

It should have glanced off of his armor, but the blade was made of something unknown to the commander. It pierced his armor, leaving no mark, but seared deep into Cullen's flesh, making him cry out in terrible pain. Nothing could describe the onrush of emotions that forced him to his knees. The blade in which it wielded was unholy.

Before he could process what was happening, everything went dark.


	4. The Secret Order

All light had faded and it felt as if he were tumbling aimlessly into the depths of the inky abyss. He wondered if this was what death was, nothing for all eternity. Why did so many have faith in the Maker if there was no afterlife?

 _What's wrong with him?_ It sounded like Cassandra's voice, but he could see nothing.

 _The wound is not a physical one, it is magic, driven by the wraith's blade. Few people are skilled enough to handle this type of injury. It is a grievous wound,_ the doctor's voice answered.

 _Then… he will not make it?_ Cassandra breathed.

 _I did not say it was beyond my skill,_ Leona snapped. Words that Cullen had never heard the likes of began to lull him.

 _What words do you speak? I thought you claimed to be no mage._

 _I am not a mage, these are holy words, forgotten by those who had vendettas and used the Maker's name for their own vanity. Now don't interrupt me._

* * *

Cullen awoke some time later in his own bed. His upper body was nude and he wore a bandage tightly wrapped around the area of the wound. He recalled nothing of the journey back to Skyhold, but he did remember the voices of Cassandra and Leona. He moved to sit up, his breath stolen from him when he did. His shoulder seared as if a flame hid within his flesh. Groaning, he bowed his head down toward his legs, breathing laboriously.

The ladder to his loft groaned and peeking up over the floor was Cassandra. Noticing he was awake, the Seeker continued up.

"You're awake, thank the Maker," she breathed. "But you shouldn't be moving around. The doctor prescribed at least a few days bedrest after you woke up. You should be glad to be alive," the woman told him, easing him back into bed before he brows furrowed. "What were you thinking? I read the reports, you should have waited for Doctor Entwhistle to resurface."

"And let more innocent people die? I had to see what it was for myself, I underestimated its abilities," he grumbled.

"A whole patrol died, your lieutenant fortunately got you out of there before it could claim you too… It nearly did anyways."

"How did I survive?"

"We summoned the doctor. She knew once the monster was described and she saw your condition, just what had happened. It was a wraith, the spirit of a deceased mage who resorted to dark magicks. They're rare, according to the doctor, but they cannot be harmed by mortal blade, nor their wounds healed in typical ways."

"I thought I heard strange words… I heard some of your conversation," Cullen admitted.

"Yes, she claimed they are holy words that were given to chosen healers of the Maker. I've never heard of such a thing, but it worked. I've since then ran some tests on her, but she is not a mage. Perhaps it is possible that her powers are divine and if that is the case I wonder just who these Hunters are." Cassandra's face darkened at her words, deep contemplation furrowing her temple as she crossed her arms.

"Are you certain it wasn't a trick? That she didn't use some normal method of healing and it just appeared that the words did the trick?"

Cassandra scowled at him for his doubt. "Your symptoms stopped after she healed you… directly after she finished. I would not have believed it if not for seeing it with my own eyes."

Cullen sank back into thought and his lost men. Guilt swam over him for needlessly losing them. He should have waited, but had been too cocky. When did such arrogance take him over? Was it because they had defeated Corypheus and he believed nothing could rival him? Now he would have to inform families that they beloved soldiers were dead and due, in part, to his carelessness. Corypheus was defeated, he was losing too many men at this pace.

"And the plague?"

"No one has fallen ill since being administered the medicine. As for those infected… A handful were too far gone and the doctor ordered their immediate burning. The others… are getting better. None of them are going to be released until all signs of illness are gone, but according to her, since they have been exposed to the plague already they should not contract it again, something about immunity to the virus. I don't understand most of the rhetoric the doctor spits out at me, but she knows what she is talking about."

He nodded, placing his head against his pillow, dozing off.

* * *

It was evening before he awoke. He had the strength to get up and go down the ladder into his office. No one was there to keep watch on him, leading him to believe that their worry about his health had been sated for the time being.

He wanted answers that Cassandra had not been able to give him. He put on a shirt and threw his cloak about his shoulders before he went out of his toward and walked the ramparts to where the doctor dwelled.

There were dim lights flickering in the window and there was no longer a notice on the door claiming the area was quarantined. Cullen knocked.

"Come in," he opened the door and the strong stench of pine needles smacked him in the face. The office was cleaned pristinely and the scent was from some cleaning concoction that the doctor had created to sanitize her quarters. He did not see her immediately, closing the door behind him.

There was a flicker behind a changing shade and the trickling of water as he realized that the doctor had been taking a bath.

"I can-uh, come back at another time," he stammered.

"No need, I was done anyways," she dismissed. The candlelight illuminated her shadow as she stepped out of the tub and dried herself off. Cullen nearly forgot to avert his gaze, feeling as if he were intruding despite nothing being able to see anything other than a feminine shadow.

Leona came from around the shade with a silken robe on that reached down to the floor. Her hair was still damp, dripping slightly against her collar. Her stormy eyes showed her exhaustion plainly. "You shouldn't be out of bed," she chirped smartly.

Before he could say anything she came over to him, grabbing one of her tools. Her warm fingers touched his throat, feeling around for something. Once satisfied she put the stethoscope to her ears, finding the collar of Cullen's shirt and without much hesitation she swung her hand under and placed the cold metal against his skin.

Cullen was bewildered that the woman seemed to have no shame. In conjunction with her underdressed and he not wearing his armor, he found that both of them were unprofessionally garbed, probably due to the hour.

Moving the metal away Leona glanced up. She walked away, carefully placing her stethoscope on her desk before she pulled the chair out with a screech.

"Sit down," she ordered.

Cullen didn't argue with her and for the first time in a while, took an order from someone who was not the Inquisitor.

Leona retrieved a cloth to pat at her dripping hair. "What do you want to know?"

"What makes you think that I want to know something?" he asked automatically.

Leona arched a brow at him, not bothering to answer his question.

Cullen chuckled in spite of himself, glancing down at his hands as he relaxed into the chair, glad it was there. "I suppose I ought to thank you for your work. Without you I would have certainly died."

Throwing the cloth over the shade the doctor returned to lean up against her desk. "All in a day's work, Commander. That's what I do… save lives." Despite her nonchalant tone of voice, there was a bit of cynicism toward the end of her sentence.

"It's more than that, this wasn't that science you bragged about your first day here. Cassandra… she described it as something else, magic but not magic? And I heard you, I might not have been looking at you. But I heard the words you spoke."

Leona moved a piece of damp hair from her face and sighed as she edged on the desk to fully sit on it. Her silken robe clung to her frame which was surprisingly athletic. The thin material left little to the imagination and Cullen pursed his lips when he realized he was staring. The only thing that really slipped into his mind was how slender she was and what a thin chest she had.

"That… was not supposed to happen," she grumbled, breaking the aloof character she had presented herself as thus far. Her eyes swept over to him, a dark maelstrom, considering him for a time. "What we are… what _I_ am was not intended to be revealed until we could fully trust the Inquisition with the knowledge. However, it seems that you forced our hand when I had to heal you."

"So it was magic?" he pressed.

"Of its own kind. You are not born with it, you are chosen to possess it by the Maker. Thus, this does not make us mages. It is a divine gift."

"I've heard mages who claim the same thing of their magic."

Leona sighed, pressing her hand to her temple as she contemplated how she would explain this. "It is not an easy task to explain this to you, because I have to go back far in history for any of it to even make sense."

"Take your time, I've got all night," Cullen shrugged.

" _You_ of all people _should_ be sleeping. But if I'm going to explain this to any of the Inquisition leaders, I'd prefer it to be you," she muttered. "The Order of Hunters is not the Order of Hunters. We refer to ourselves as that now because it is convenient. We actually are an ancient holy order who answers to only the Maker and his bride Andraste.

"Returning to the birth of our religion and its growth there were two sides to the Templar Order. One who was devout to the Chantry and the other that wished to be completely separate, but still work with the Chantry. The reason was due to political influence. Some templars thought that the Chantry would sway to whoever was in power and they wanted to govern themselves.

"Some of the most devout claimed to be given powers by the Maker and of course, the Chantry did not like this. At this time lyrium was being introduced to templars, so that the Chantry could develop a stronger hold on the order. In reaction to this, several left and they formed a secret order that would answer to anyone other than those within the order, since they did not need lyrium to use their gifts. Their purpose was only to serve the Maker and in response, he gave those who proved themselves with the powers of a paladin, a holy knight, or a cleric, a holy healer.

"As I stated, these powers are not magic or connected to the Fade. The power comes from faith in the maker as well as devotion.

"We have always existed in the shadows, tracking dangerous apostates or slaying demons. Of course, our range increased with time and soon enough we learned of the Eluvians. The entire order vanished into them and to where some would call the twisted lands beyond the sea. It was there that the Order met the monsters that are appearing in Thedas. It is there that we learned how to hone our gifts to destroy them.

"The battle against Corypheus was not ours to fight, but we did what we could. We destroyed demons, but due to the Inquisitor being claimed as the Herald of Andraste…. Many of the order members were vexed that the Maker had not chosen one of us and others called the Inquisitor's title as Herald as blasphemy. Since we were so divided on whether or not we should help, we did not. At least, not as largely as we could have.

"But now… the appearance of all these monsters from the other lands… We don't know where they're coming from, but they're coming, and you can see from the ones you met and the one you just met, you have no idea what they're capable of or what you're facing. Finally, we have stepped out of the shadows to combat this threat. We've decided to ally ourselves with the Inquisition because of your political neutrality and because all of Thedas has faith in you, due to your previous accomplishments…"

Cullen drew a breath as she finished and considered what she had told him. "If you have these powers, did you use them to heal those with the plague? Curing a plague is unheard of…"

"No," Leona admitted. "I-I cannot rely on my divine gifts for everything. It is something I can only use in the most dire of needs because the cost of using it is too great."

"The cost of using it?"

"Within the last decade anyone with these gifts has been having issues using them. It truly started with the last blight and since then, using our powers has a trade off. Healing powers require so much energy that I cannot heal more than one person at a time. Healing you put me out of commission for two days."

"How is it a gift if you can barely use it?"

"It wasn't always like this. When I discovered my gift I could heal people and creatures without wasting much energy. Since then my power has only dwindled and become more difficult to use. I reserve it now for emergencies I cannot fix with my skills, such as your wound from the wraith."

Cullen nodded. "Your Order sounds a bit too good to be true. I do wish that they had been the ones to win the fight against the Chantry rather than the Templar Order," he replied, considering his own time in the templar order, wondering what it would have been like if he had never been introduced to lyrium.

"Yes… the Maker works in mysterious ways," she said in a quiet and faraway voice. Cullen glanced up to look at her and noticed the exhaustion sagging in her shoulders and the vacant stare in her eyes.

"How are you holding up, after working with the infected?" he asked, shifting the conversation away.

She turned her head back toward him. "Ground thin," she sighed. "I barely got any rest during my time down there and when I was summoned up here to help you… well, it nearly drained me completely. I am recuperating still, but the wraith needs to be handled before more innocent people are killed and I fear I am the closest of my Order who can be dispatched to destroy it. So you can see, I've got quite a bit on my plate and little time to chew it."

"If you wait a few days I will join you," he offered.

"Are you that eager to be sent back to the sick bed?" she quipped.

"Oh, I figured with you and your amazing 'gifts' that I would be safe," he grinned wearily.

Leona smirked at him before standing up. "I suppose you'll learn if you come along, but you need to rest more or I will not take you."

"I have to go to make certain you'll be safe. After all you _are_ a doctor, you're quite a priceless ally."

"Fine, fine, you can be my torch-boy."

"Torch-boy," Cullen snorted.

"You'd just be an easy target otherwise. Wraiths hate light and fire, a proper torch will be a sufficient weapon."

"You make it sound like such a trivial task."

"It is," she grinned. "Or you could stay here and do more paperwork. But having you as a witness means that the Inquisition shall be certain it is defeated. Also, I could teach you the weaknesses of any beasts that appear."

"And then I could teach my men about the creatures."

"Yes, the ones you _can_ combat. You will need a specialist with proper equipment for beings like a wraith," the doctor sidled over to her work table and opened one of the pine cupboards, pulling out a few different herbs. "Fortunately, not many like it exist, it is just unfortunate that one appeared so close."

While she worked to make some sort of formula, the doctor hummed a familiar tune to herself. She turned around and offered it to Cullen.

"This is milk of poppy, it has some added pain reducers for your shoulder. It will help you sleep tonight. Tomorrow have a hearty breakfast and begin building your strength again. If you are well enough in three day's time, I shall take you with me to dispose of the wraith."

Cullen accepted the small flask. "Thank you," he said as he stood, brushing Leona lightly. Her closeness made the commander flush, but the dim candlelight of her office hid it. "I will return to my tower for the evening. Thank you for answering my questions."

Leona rolled her shoulders with mock disdain, her eyes cast aside, but rather than nonchalance, he noticed the deep thought that possessed her. "Yes… Rest well, Cullen. Please, actually listen to my orders and prescriptions for once," she looked up at him for a lingering moment before closing her eyes, stepping back and escorting him to the door.

Cullen slowly returned to his room, pausing on the ramparts to stare out into the immense expanse and sky that the keep so serendipitously offered. His fingers tightened around the flask as he thought of the exchange between he and Leona. So much information had been thrown at him, he would have to write a report eventually so that the other leaders of the Inquisition could be brought up to speed. He found reports were a better way of explaining what he learned than repeating it, he often fumbled with his train of thought if it weren't written out.

The song Leona had been humming was stuck in his head.

 _Sometimes, just being from the same place it all it takes._


	5. Your Neighbor's Biography

The report had been filed and Cullen was feeling much better than he had been in a long time. Sometimes, there was a dull throb in his shoulder, despite the lack of a scar or wound.

Following the report, there had been a summoning from Cassandra and Josephine, who were bewildered at the idea of a secret templar order existing for so long. He need only to sway one person, for Josephine had not witnessed the work of a cleric as Cassandra had. However, the Pentaghast still had many questions to probe him with. The advisors had to consider whether or not trust could be put in the doctor, despite all she had already done. To both Cassandra and Cullen, actions spoke louder than words, but Josephine was wise to be wary. The doctor would have to further prove the intentions of her order, were that of an alliance.

Thus, the doctor was put on more of a watch than she had been when she reported under the guise of The Hunters. Cullen disagreed with the tactic, knowing that it might very well offend Leona if she discovered she was being watched from every corner, especially after all she had done for them.

Occasionally, he found himself daydreaming from time to time, which was very strange. Cullen had always been a man of action and focus, he never had time or reason to entertain idle fantasies. Now it was as if he were waiting for a countdown to finish, so that he could go on the trip to his foe, that had grievously wounded him. But was it the foe which he wanted to face or the mysterious companion he wished to accompany there?

Rumors spread like wildfire across Skyhold of the recovering afflicted. They were beginning to put the doctor on a pedestal for accomplishing the impossible, just as they had with Mayella. Perhaps the fact that she was an average person, for all they knew, was what drew them to her. Mayella had the anchor, a piece of magic that gave her the powers she used to save them. Leona used only her own skill.

Cullen was sent for in the morning to meet Leona by the stables.

On his way down he noted the weather was nice for a change. Everytime he went somewhere it had to snow or appear gloomy.

The sun was smiling down upon them, though the air was still a bit chill due to their altitude in the mountains.

Leona was waiting for him, her hair pinned up and her attire unlike any she had worn since arriving. It was actually the first time she wore sn outfit less formal and a bit more Ferelden in fashion; leather trousers, a cotton blouse underneath a leather doublet, and a navy blue cloak.

"Nice of you to finally show up," the woman remarked smartly. "I've been here since dawn and tacted your horse for you."

"Dawn?" Cullen muttered. "I wasn't informed until now, obviously you didn't try hard enough to get me here."

"It took me a while to flag someone down, I didn't want to leave the horses. Most people just stare and don't answer me, like I'm a ghost or an apparition," she scowled, putting one foot in the stirrup of her enormous horse's saddle. She swung herself up and over and glanced down at Cullen with amused disdain. "Come on then, unless you're still not well enough."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Cullen grumbled as he gamboled onto his own steed, finding himself at a much lower position than Leona due to her mount's size. "I never took you for an impatient person."

"I'm not impatient, I just like things to go according to how I schedule them."

"That sounds like something an impatient person would say," he teased.

They exited Skyhold without being harried, the wind gently blowing by them as they left the safety of the walls behind.

Cullen's mind teetered between two topics. The dark creature they rode to face and the secret order the doctor belonged to.

"You know…" Leona drawled, breaking his muddled thoughts. "It occurs to me that we don't really know much about each other. Or what happened in between the years we parted ways."

"No we don't," Cullen agreed.

"Well, since we have the time, no harm in telling then?" she offered.

It was going to be a few hours before they arrived at the site and even then, they still had hours before dusk. He didn't see the harm in sharing his own past, despite the terror he had faced in the Ferelden Circle of Magi. On the other hand, he was extremely curious about the life Leona had led after he had gone.

"Ladies first, then," he prompted.

Leona sat back in her saddle, chewing on her thoughts, contemplating where to begin. "Well, after you left Honnleath, nothing much really happened. Perhaps some months after, a traveler came through. His name was Doctor Whitebeard and he had the most immaculately groomed beard I'd ever seen. Honestly, I thought he'd made up his name to match his pride, his beard," she grinned, her eyes cast slightly up as she recalled her memories. "He helped old Whitney McDougal with that blasted cold he'd always had. Told him he was allergic to pollen and taught him how to make medicine that would clear up his sinuses."

Cullen recalled Whitney, an older man who always had a leaky nose and cleared flem from his throat every few seconds. He had been one of the horse masters, but few liked to speak to him due to his speech sounding wet, mucus rumbling in his chest. He hadn't the money to employ a mage about a small hinderance that he had lived with most of his life.

"When I saw that, I got so excited. I wondered 'how did he do that? It's not magic and he helped Whitney for little more than a copper!' So I asked him and he told me that a lot of people have allergies, some more severe than others. I didn't really understand what he was talking about, all the technical terms he was spitting out at me… and because I didn't know, _I_ wanted to learn more. I'd spent so much time with my nose in books and yet, I'd never heard of any of this. I suppose that's one of my downfalls, I'd try to learn everything in the world if I had the time.

"So I begged my Pa to let me go with him, to learn under this stranger. But of course, no Pa with any sense in his brain would let his young daughter go off with some foreign man. He told me, 'The only way I'd let you go with this stranger is if the Maker himself struck ol' Bess down with lightning'. Ol'Bess was our milk cow that had long since gone dry. She had become more of a companion, my father hadn't the heart to put her down for meat.

"And I swear, hand to the Maker, no later than five minutes later was Ol'Bess struck down with lightning."

Cullen forced a frown. "You can't be serious."

Leona's eyes were bright with mischief. "Why not? Too far fetched?"

"You'll have me believe that the Maker, himself, struck down Ol'Bess so that you would go down this path?"

"Did I not heal you with words from the Maker?" she implored.

"Yes, but-"

"I'm just kidding, you caught me. Actually, my father already knew Whitebeard from his years in the military," Leona said, grinning. "Whitebeard had been a medic and my father one of the smithies."

Cullen felt heat in his cheeks, almost having believed her for a moment.

"I thought the whole 'chosen by the Maker for this path' sort of story would be more intriguing, but you're too clever to fool," she jested.

"I know someone who also likes to embezzle stories with half-truths," Cullen muttered, his mind slipping toward Varric for a brief moment.

"Anyways," Leona continued with a huge, stupid smile on her face, "They were old war buddies, back from when Ferelden was just a small resistance force trying to root Orlais out. They had been in the center of the war since the beginning of its conception and helped bring Maric Theirin to his rightful place on the throne.

"And my father knew of my studies, he was the one who had always indulged me and bought me books. When I made the request, he spoke with Whitebeard on my behalf and came to an agreement to have be study as his pupil. The only terms he had were that we returned to Honnleath every few months to check in with him.

"The doctor and I began traveling across Thedas. Much of my beginning years was spent in books, being tested, and simply observing the doctor. I was an onlooker, never to intercede or give my opinion. After three years, he finally allowed me to help with trivial matters such as stitches and remedying simple colds or other symptoms. I recall being so excited everytime we met someone who had a simple ailment, because I got to make the diagnosis.

"I returned to Honnleath periodically. I must have been 15 when the doctor and I bumped into the Order. It was by chance, one member had fallen grievously ill and refused to be tended to by a mage. Doctor Whitebeard was in the area and summoned to do what he could. I wasn't allowed in the room, it had happened before with nobles, so I hadn't thought much of it.

"The place was sort of dingy, strange scrawlings on parchment hung on the walls. I became so bored, that I started to read them. It was a language I hadn't seen before. I'd learned to read many texts, in varying languages, especially Tevinter, since most texts are from there. But this was something I'd never seen. And despite never seeing it before, I could read it.

"I read it aloud and someone had been nearby. I didn't realize it was a scripture written by one of the first Order members, resembling somewhat of an oath. It was in the tongue of the Maker, but despite speaking a tongue I'd never seen, I could comprehend its translation as easily as I can Common.

"The paladin who overheard me escorted me into a dungeon-like room. I recall thinking I was in trouble for reading something I shouldn't have. Eventually Whitebeard joined me, but rather than looking upset, he gave me a look of utter disbelief, a look of awe and fear. I'd never known him to be a man to crack around the seams, to show much more emotion other than collectedness.

"A few members of the Order came to speak with us and asked me if I knew the meaning of the words I spoke aloud. I was terrified at that point and I told them I didn't, because I wanted to leave. Of course, they didn't believe me and explained to me who they were. I wasn't going to be allowed to just leave and continue my life as it had been with Whitebeard. As of that day, both Whitebeard and I became inducted into the Order. It was either join or die for Whitebeard, for they couldn't allow him to leave after what he had just heard.

"At first, I was scared of the Order. I didn't really understand what any of it meant and why they had ceded from the Templar Order in the first place. I wasn't aware of the lyrium addictions and trade that was deeply rooted in the Chantry. I'd come to find out later, when treating it, but Whitebeard had sheltered me from the depths of the Chantry's political trenches. We were forced to remain in their keep for a time while the Order insisted on my training. Whitebeard continued my studies within the confines of stone walls.

"For a while, I cursed myself for reading something I shouldn't have. I believed it was all my fault and I worried that my father would come looking for us.

"Eventually, a cleric by the name of Adelaide came to me and started teaching me Chantry rhetoric. I found it a bit dry, no offense, but I was still too fearful to not learn it. Following that, the Order insisted that I begin training to fight. They placed a sword in my hand and prepared a time of day for me to meet with a paladin who saw to it that I learned its ways. They shared little information with me and soon, the halls of the Order became my boarding school.

"When I turned 18, I was summoned and tested by a panel, on which Whitebeard now sat. I hadn't known, but Whitebeard had become trusted by the Order. I had been left in the dark until becoming an adult. I knew at this point, what the Order was and that I was chosen as a cleric. My place in the world was muddled and I was confused as to what we would be doing. Our mission was revealed to me, to protect Thedas from a threat beyond it.

"Our people had discovered Eluvians that connected to portals far beyond Thedas. It was there, that our Order was fighting beasts unlike any of those found at home. We were fearful that, because we possessed portals, there might be more that could act as paths for these monsters to come through.

"Due to the Chantry being so powerful and the Templar Order still existing, we could not step from out of the shadows. Instead, we kept to ourselves and I went back and forth between the lands beyond and traveling Thedas. The Blight proved to be our first problem.

"I was forced to travel more in Orlais or Tevinter, away from the taint. My powers were considerably weakened in Ferelden, which would soon continue its reach to everywhere in Thedas. I cannot say if the power of the Old Gods has some sort of countenance to our powers, but it hasn't been the same in the following years.

"I spent a lot of time in the poorer, rural parts of Orlais until the end of Ferelden's 5th Blight. I then returned through the Eluvians to a realm that had become even more stirred than before. I always wondered if there was a link with the Old Gods again, but there's not solid proof, only theories. Before the Breach, I had been researching darkspawn and Grey Wardens, I became interested in the taint and I was trying to see if there was something I could do about the premature deaths of Grey Wardens."

"Did the Grey Wardens know about you?" Cullen interjected.

"Yes and no. They knew of us, we swapped research, but they did not really know what we were. Their assumptions were mainly around us being some sort of reclusive cult that funded research into old codexes and magic. I suppose sort of like Maker freaks, but we had our uses," she chuckled.

"Continuing… Where was I-"

"The Breach?"

"Ah yes, the Breach. When the Breach came, we nearly revealed ourselves and offered a hand. It seemed that the breach opening would be perfect timing, along with the rift between the Templar Order and Chantry. We hoped to pull the Templar Order onto our side and restore it to the glory our Order's creators had always wanted. However, the moment the Inquisitor was named Herald… that put all operations to a skidding halt. An uproar of disagreement broke out between our Order, nearly fracturing it. Many of us, including myself, believed that we were needed, despite one of our own not being chosen. On the other hand, many of our superiors were vexed that the Maker would choose someone outside the Order and refused to help. We did what we could, stopping destructive apostates and abominations, but our hands were tied.

"The shattered pride of our leaders nearly cost all of Thedas, but from the words of one of the paladins 'If the Maker has chosen a stranger, then it is up to the stranger to restore Thedas. Our assistance is not needed or He would have chosen us.' Of course, that's irritating to hear when everything was going on, but in the end, the Inquisition and Herald did it and now the words come back to bite me in the ass. The Maker had reserved our forces for another time. _Now_."

"They kept you locked up in their keep for 3 years before telling you why you were there?" Cullen asked, a handful of questions popping in his head once she had finished.

"Again, yes and no, they weren't unkind to me, but there were topics I was not ready for. I came to understand my place as a cleric not too long after I began studying there. For what purpose, I did not know until I became of age."

"Did you hate it there?"

"No, I did get to learn with some others my age. I think I was just confused and scared, at first; just as anyone who was inducted into a secret order unwillingly should be."

"What about your father? How was he after the Blight? I know those in Honnleath were forced to flee."

"He actually got out before the Blight. He was vexed they wouldn't allow communication, he had assumed the worst had become of Whitebeard and I. However, he later became one of the Order's Holy Smithies. He and a few other blacksmiths forge our blessed weapons."

"And then becoming a doctor…" he drawled.

"Whitebeard awarded me the title on my 21st name day. He believed I was well studied enough to do work without him."

"How does the ranking system of your Order work?"

This question made Leona pause. She had indulged him in her history and given the motives behind her cult, whether they be true or not. However, now he was asking a targeted question about their infrastructure. "I can say that it's very similar to the Templar Order, however, it is known that the paladins have more authority than the clerics. My own stance is seasoned, but I am more of a deployable field agent with a certain set of acquired skills. I'm the only doctor other than Whitebeard."

She deflected the question by bringing it around back to her own position. Cullen procured from her answer, that she was not in a position to decide what information she could freely indulge with him. At this point, he knew he couldn't ask much more about the inner workings of her organization until more developed from her superiors.

It was strange to think that such an outspoken and forthright woman was not in a position of leadership. Leona was groomed and tailored to be one, her training was evident of this. And yet, this division between paladins and clerics presented a glass ceiling that Leona could not pass.

"Have you ever wanted to be a leader?" he asked her finally.

Leona rolled her shoulders. "I suppose it is only natural for those of us with strong personalities to seek power over others. However, in some manners, my power comes not from position in ranking, but position in skills. A warrior leader can be replaced by another warrior just as strong. Only another doctor-cleric could fill mine and there aren't any," she replied coolly, sending a chill down Cullen's spine.

The impish doctor had again, revealed this calculating and impassive demeanor he had observed upon occasion. Just when he believed that she had revealed her true personality, the cold one surfaced from beneath.

Even if the Order had sought to escape the politics of the Chantry, it seemed that politics had developed within its own ranks. A blatant dislike for the paladins who governed the clerics became clearer to Cullen. It reminded him of the divide between templar and mage.

"Perhaps it is my turn then…" Cullen changed the subject as the silence perverted the air between them. Again, the hue of a dark maelstrom consumed her titanic eyes, which bore forward into the landscape.

Cullen began his autobiography to when he left Honnleath at the age of 13. Most of his other peers were recruits from a young age, creating doubt and worry that he would fall behind them. He dispelled this idea quickly and caught up to the other recruits. He spoke fondly of those years training with the other boys and eagerly took his vows as a templar, consummating the ritual with the taking of lyrium. The mere mention of the dreaded substance sending a shudder riveting through him.

His first station had been the Circle Tower in Kinloch Hold. The man gave a brief detail about it, trying not to recount the terrors that soon came with the Blight. When the Circle fell to blood magic, he only made the slightest mention that the Hero of Ferelden had come and rescued those who had been trapped inside, including himself. He was thankful that Leona didn't interrupt his story to ask what it had been like inside.

The story continued with him being sent across the sea to Kirkwall, where he earned his promotion to Knight-Captain. He recounted how much stricter it had been under Knight-Commander Meredith for both templars and mages alike. All of which came to a head when the apostate, Anders, blew up the Chantry. The brittle structure of the Circle crumbled, partially due to Meredith being driven mad by red lyrium she had laced in her weapon. Seeing no alternative path, the lead enchanter also turned to blood magic to try and save his people from being slaughtered. Cullen, was stuck between a rock and a hard place, forced to ally with the Champion to conduct a mutiny against Meredith.

He and the other templars worked to regain control of the fractured city. Upon seeing this feat, Cassandra recruited him to the Inquisition where he became the commander. He mentioned at a point that he had hated mages, but after the rebellion in Kirkwall, he couldn't help but sympathize with both factions. While his templar life did have its appeal in his youth, he quickly was thrust out of his comfort zone and into the rise and fall of the Chantry.

So much carnage had followed him wherever he went, including the Inquisition, his biggest challenge yet. Cullen had been saddled with the responsibility of an army that stood on pins and needles. In part, their work had not always been appreciated, but Thedas had been a mess. It wasn't to say that thanks to all his work that it was put together again, but he took some pride in knowing he had a hand in it.

He'd believed that he could retire to a piece of land in Ferelden, but the Inquisition still had work for him, thus he remained.

"Fun seems to follow you everywhere you go," Leona chirped sarcastically.

"Fun…" Cullen scoffed dryly, unable to think up a reply that sufficed, as he leaned forward on his saddle to stretch his back.

"How was your transition from being a templar?" she asked.

"Terrible," he said immediately. "I believed for a time, that I would need to be relieved of my post because of it."

"And yet, here you ride today, as a testament to the ghosts you've left behind," Leona declared.

The man blinked at her, he'd never thought of it as remarkable or strong. He'd cursed himself every night for being so weak and it took the helping hands of the Inquisitor and Cassandra to nurse him from his addiction. It had been a brutal weakness, one he hated with every fiber of his being. One that the Chantry saddled every templar with.

"I've seen many templars who cannot let it go and I've tried my hand at helping them, but…" she drawled off. "I cannot heal what is no longer there."

The reference to the madness that consumed templars after years of lyrium consumption, hung in the chilled air. The sun had disappeared behind a blanket of clouds and now their breaths hung in the air.

"We're drawing near," Cullen warned told her.

"Yes, I can feel it," she replied cryptically, running a gloved hand over her charger's neck.


End file.
